Sticks and Stones
by fashiongirl97
Summary: The first time that Doctor Donald Mallard met Jennifer Gibbs, she was in the process of returning her surname and the ring on her left hand, to the infamous Leroy Jethro Gibbs. The good Doctor had not thought much of the woman; he'd just assumed she was another in the long line of red heads he had heard so much about. The second time he met her, he realised how wrong he was.
1. The first meeting

_NCIS is not mine._

_This is the first story I have written in what feels like ages. For those waiting on Who I Am Today, let's just face the fact it probably isn't coming. I've got maybe 4 chapters written? The rest is just a mishmash of lunacy. _

_Anyway, here we go. _

_Enjoy!_

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><p><span>Sticks and Stones<span>

Chapter One: The first meeting

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><p>The first time that Doctor Donald Mallard met Jennifer Gibbs, she was in the process of returning her surname and the ring on her left hand, to the infamous Leroy Jethro Gibbs. The good Doctor had not thought much of the woman; he'd just assumed she was another in the long line of red heads he had heard so much about. Another one who was to be left heart broken in the former Marine's wake. If the look of hurt, sadness and regret in her eye was anything to go by then he was certain that his first impression was right.<p>

The second time he met her, she was in the middle of a blazing row, and he couldn't resist the temptation to place his ear to the door. The second time he met her, Doctor Donald Mallard realised that in actual fact, he had been further from the truth than he ever imagined that he could be.

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><p><em>September 2000<em>

_Paris, since the moment she had landed in the city five years ago, it had felt like such a blissful place which was unaware of the rest of the world. Where time could stand still and yet rush by in the same instant. The old historic buildings that lined every street she walked down, with their detailed stonework, archways and intricate glasswork. Cobbled streets; winding down towards the river, and then busy ones running completely parallel. It was a city so in tune with the rest of the world in one sense – technology, art and fashion, and yet so in a world of its own as well. _

_The red head turned and looked in the mirror, running a hand through the long red wavy locks. It seemed like a lifetime ago that she was living in her student flat in America, studying at Virginia polytechnic and interning in the summer. She smiled; the sun was shining through the French windows, filling the room with a warm glow. The walls, which were painted in the palest of greens, gave a tranquil feel, and contrasted just enough with the white washed furniture to as chic and classy as its owner. _

_She ran a hand over the front of her cream fitted dress. The panelling gave the illusion of the perfect silhouette, and made her hair look like fire in comparison. She walked over to the window and slipped on the black Louboutin shoes, accelerating her height by five inches. Grabbing her red trench coat, and slipping it on, as well as her black A4 clutch, she left the apartment which sat in the city centre. Placing the old fashioned brass key into her pocket she made her way down the black wrought iron staircase that lead her straight to the pavement below. _

_It was only reasonably early, 07:00; most people had yet to leave for work. The small cobbled back streets she walked along were quiet, the shop keepers were yet to raise their blinds and welcome the world inside. The sound of her heels clip clopping on the stone pavement to a steady beat was one of the few noises that signalled the city waking. _

_The coffee shop she was heading to was only small, it sat on the corner of two small streets, a little terrace house that sprawled out onto the street. Cold black metal chairs and tables sitting on the cobbles, perilously wobbling on the uneven surface below._

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><p><em>He ran a hand through his hair. Nearly nine months after moving to the city and it still didn't feel like home. The team he was working with were all married and had families. There was no Stan Burley to make jokes. Begrudgingly he had to admit he missed Steve. But that agent was on a ship somewhere, and Will was in LA. The team that he had worked with since Franks left had split up. <em>

_Gibbs walked down the narrow side street, heading towards the café on the corner. He'd discovered it a week after he had arrived. One late night, walking home, and just a little bit disorientated had lead to its discovery. The coffee had been the best he's had since he left the states and now it was his usual morning stop. _

_As he walked into the shop he was busy looking for his phone, rummaging through his pockets in a hope that he would find the noisy object that was driving him insane. However, the usually alert marine didn't see the woman walking out of the building. Coffee in hand and her own phone to her ear as she rambled on about the benefits of spun cotton as oppose to standard. The next thing they both knew, she was quickly hanging up and they both had coffee on them. _

"_Dammit." Gibbs swore as he looked down at the coffee stain on his red polo shirt. _

"_Oh, for god's sake!" Jenny hissed as she saw the brown stain that was covering her cream dress. _

"_Dammit." Gibbs swore for a second time as he looked up to see the woman who was staring down in anger at her dress. "C'mere." The agent said as he placed his hand on her elbow and led her over to a table, where paper napkins were being held in a silver tin. He grabbed a couple and was about to begin wiping her dress when she spoke. _

"_What do you think you're doing?" She questioned, raising an eyebrow at the stranger who was about to start touching her up. _

"_Cleaning you dress." He said, staring into her green eyes. And jeez, they were green, like emeralds that flashed with lightening. He didn't even notice the hair until moments later, and then he had to find his breath. It fell below her shoulders, thick and in loose waves that made him want to run his hands through it. _

"_I don't think so." She commented, taking the paper napkins out of his hand and beginning to let them absorb some of the liquid. However, despite her attempt, she was well aware that it was going to stain. She looked up at him, staring at her. "If you want to help you can buy me a new coffee seeming as you decided it would look better on my dress. Americano with an extra shot, and room for a splash of milk – skimmed." _

_He didn't say anything as he walked off, and Jenny frowned as he disappeared into the shop. Shaking her head she grabbed another handful of napkins and pressed them against the stain on her abdomen. Mentally, she thanked god that she had decided to bring her trench coat, at least that way she could fasten it up on her walk to the office and then change into the clothes she had at work. _

_After a couple more minutes she decided that she was not going to get the stain to disappear. Grumbling to herself, she grabbed the trench coat and put it on, fastening the buttons and tying the belt around her waist. Thankful that the dress was shorter than the jacket so the stain could not be seen. "Here." The man said, and she turned to look at him holding over her coffee. _

_Silently the woman took the coffee, placed it on the table and grabbed a napkin. Then, taking a black ball point pen out of her clutch she quickly wrote the address of her office down and handed it to him. "You can send me a check to cover the cost of my dry cleaning – and be thankful I don't sue your ass for negligence." _

_With that she picked up her coffee and walked away. "I don't even know your name." Gibbs said, and she turned around, frowning. "Who do I make the cheque out to?" _

"_Jennifer Shepard." And with that she walked away, Gibbs watched her, eyes fixed on the figure as she sauntered away, hips swaying and phone pressed to her ear. _

"…_yeah, sorry. Some idiot decided to spill his coffee down my dress. Where were we?" She questioned, pausing to cross the road, and as she turning to look behind her, she the mysterious coffee spiller walking away. Well, she thought to herself, at least he was attractive._

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><p><em>September 2004<em>

Ducky stood there talking to the silver haired former marine. He hadn't been with NCIS long; in fact it was only a few months. Previously he'd worked for the Medical Examiner's office, but a cut to their budget had meant that he took redundancy. Luckily, that was about the same time that NCIS' medical examiner retired. The allurement of more time and fewer bodies was too much for the Scotsman to resist.

The _ding_ of the lift was nothing out of the ordinary, but both still turned to look. It was getting late, 19:00 hours, and most people were heading home for the night. Not many were arriving. They paused their conversation, but Ducky swiftly continued upon not seeing anyone he recognised. However, Gibbs did not say a word, he remained silent. The reason being was that the woman walking out of the lift was a very familiar red head.

The Medical Examiner quickly realised that he was talking to himself, and quietened as the woman walked towards them. The doctor took in the woman's appearance, long red hair that fell way down her back in natural, thick, curls, and eyes that were a special kind of green. She wore a dress with leggings, a thin material that fell high up her thigh and had a floral pattern on it, filled with greens and purples. The sleeved were long, and sheer, and the ensemble, teemed with black heeled Louboutin boots, was classy and yet individual at the same time. Her makeup wasn't heavy, but it exaggerated the colour of her eyes and china doll like appearance of her skin.

She was deadly attractive, that was something that Ducky could not deny. But there was a look in her eyes, something that dulled what he guessed had once been bright and sparkling orbs of life. "Jenny." Gibbs said, as he looked at her. "What are you doing here?" The Doctor could hear the other man attempting to mask his emotions.

She opened the black A4 sized clutch bag. She always carried one of those, she always had. Gibbs had always joked it was because she wanted to carry the office around with her. It was probably the truth too. Jenny had bought a red clutch when he was with her once, and he had nearly fainted at the price. That job of hers meant that she had more money than he knew what to do with, and whilst she generally spent it cautiously, she would splurge every now and again.

"My lawyer said to give you these." She said; her voice soft as she handed over a wad of papers. Gibbs looked at her, she was thinner, there was more concealer under her eyes than there had been the first time her met her – fatigue. He was pretty sure she had said that was a symptom, however he had thought that they would all be gone by now. The dress was floaty, not fitted. He hadn't seen her in anything fitted since that dreaded day. He missed her figure, he'd always loved it.

"Is the post service on strike?" He questioned, receiving a cold harsh glare.

"No, but unlike you I was never scared to show my face. And if memory serves me right you don't go home, so how would you know you have post?"

"I go home." He replied.

"Must just have been when I was there that you didn't want to then." He felt like someone had stabbed him. He'd loved her more than any of his other ex-wives. She was the one that he thought he would be able to move on with. He had thought… he had thought she was his shot at happiness. Yet someone else had obviously had other ideas. Because now he was being handed divorce papers. She looked down at her left finger, at the ring that sat there. It was stunning; she had always thought it was. A gold band, with a diamond set in the middle, a sapphire one side and an emerald the other. Unique, classy, simple, just how she loved things, and he had known that. He had known her better than she knew herself. Then there was the simple plain gold wedding band.

She slid the rings off, and placed the wedding band on top of the papers that were on his desk. Then she looked at the engagement ring. She still remembered the night that he had proposed: on the bank of the river Seine, beneath the stars, when no one else was around. They'd gone for a walk after going out for dinner, and then they'd danced, just as they had done numerous times with just their breathing for music. Jenny remembered the feeling of seeing him on one knee, the way her heart had stopped, her breath had been snatched. So cliché and yet… he hadn't said anything soppy like they do in the films. He'd just gone _'Marry me?'_ in typical Gibbs style. Simple, short and straight to the point.

Paris, was engraved on the inside of the ring. Two Americans meeting in a foreign city, it was their city now. She took one last look at the sparkling ring, and closed her eyes as she placed it down with the wedding band. "Jenny-" Gibbs began. He had expected her to give him the wedding band, but not her engagement ring. Her giving him that… it was like she was giving him Paris back. Telling him that it wasn't their city anymore, that it was just another place, another city. That it didn't matter about their story, about the nights spent in her apartment, or the dancing under the moonlight. They were all in the past, forgotten, lost and never to be wrenched back up.

"Keep it." She said, looking at him. It was hard to say goodbye to the only man she had ever loved in that way. Hard to end a marriage that she had thought would last for all of eternity. But some things were too big to be able to mend with a therapist. Some wounds were too deep.

"You don't have to. We can fix this." He said, and she just looked at him. Blinked away the tears, and ran a finger through her hair.

"You weren't there. You weren't there when I needed you, when they were fixing me." She took a deep breath, and turned to Ducky. She smiled softly at the older man, but it was a sad smile. "I'm sorry to have interrupted your conversation." She said, before turning and looking at her husband. "You can post my lawyer the papers." And with that the red head walked away.

Gibbs ran a hand through his hair. As Jenny waited for the lift she turned and looked over at the MCRT division, just as Gibbs looked over at her. In that moment their eyes met in a way they hadn't done in a long time. There was spark, but that spark was blown away into the distance when the lift arrived. Jenny turned away, and Gibbs just watched her go.

He looked down at his desk and saw a takeout cup of coffee that he didn't even see her put down. He picked it up and took a sip, closing his eyes momentarily at the taste which assaulted him with memories.

Americano with an extra shot and a splash of milk- skimmed.

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><p><em>September 2000<em>

_He stood outside of the small townhouse in the city centre. The small road it was sat on was quiet, cobbled, and primarily residential. There was a small sign hung over the door, it was oak and had the words 'á ma maison' engraved into it in cursive font. The former marine walked forward, turned the door knob and stepped inside. The room that greeted him was one of the three that formed the business premises. That particular room had two desks, opposite one another. The walls were painted in a pastel blue so pale it was almost white, the furniture was whitewashed, but the two chairs which sat opposite the door were covered in bright patchwork fabric. _

_The second room was where they held their meetings. It had a large sofa, and then two chairs, all sat around a large high coffee table which generally was filled with scraps of paper and samples within just two minutes. The final room was what Jenny generally referred to as the grotto. It was a kitchen, well was meant to be. It was filled almost to bursting with fabric, furniture she had bought at markets and nicknacks she had picked up whenever she saw them. _

_At the sound of the door opening the red head looked up from her desk. Her assistant's was vacant as she was running errands, so the red head was alone in the building. It had been a few days since the whole coffee fiasco, and she had not expected to see the man behind the chaos again. But there he stood, looking just as handsome as she had tried to forget him looking. _

_The agent ran a hand through his hair, and smirked wryly, taking in the appearance of the woman opposite. The dress which had featured a coffee stain had been traded in for a cream pencil skirt and a green silk blouse."Can I help you?" The red head questioned, softly placing her pen down and looking straight at the gentleman stood in her doorway. _

"_Thought I'd bring you your cheque." He stated, waving the piece of paper in his hand. She stood up, proving Gibbs with the opportunity to take in her beauty once more, and catch sight of the impossibly high green heels which encased her feet. She walked forward with ease on the women flooring, took the cheque off of him and returned to her desk, leaning against the edge of it. _

"_Thank you." She stated, expecting him to go, when he made no sign to do so she questioned: "Was there something else?"_

"_Wondered if you wanted to get dinner sometime." He stated, boldly, causing Jenny to raise an eyebrow, taken aback. _

"_So you can ruin one of my dresses with red wine this time? I think I'll pass." She stated, as she went to sit back down, pick up her pen and get back to work. Signalling the conversation was over. As he left her office she guessed that would not be the last time she saw him, not that she minded… as long as he left her dresses alone._


	2. The second meeting

Sticks and Stones

Chapter two: The second meeting

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><p>The second time Doctor Mallard met Jennifer Gibbs, she was in the middle of a blazing row, and he couldn't resist the temptation to place his ear to the door. The second time he met her, Doctor Donald Mallard realised that in actual fact, he had been further from the truth than he ever imagined that he could be. Jennifer Gibbs, was a whole lot more than just another notch on the infamous special agent's bedpost.<p>

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><p><em>April 2001<em>

_Jenny held the door open from the meeting room into her office which also doubled as a waiting area and hallway. The gentleman and his wife who she had been conversing with walked through it and paused in the office. They both complemented her on the ideas that she had proposed. Their house was one of the mid 19__th__ century châteaux's that sat on the river bank and was to be photographed in a large interior design magazine in the autumn. They had decided certain rooms needed to be refurbished and had arrived on the doorstep of 'À ma Maison' just two days ago with strict instructions of what they wanted. Annabelle, Jenny's assistant, had quickly been sent out to photograph the house and collect measurements so that planning could begin. _

"_I will contact you when I have drawn up what she spoke about today." Jenny told them, in flawless, only lightly accented French. _

"'_Merci'. Both responded before bidding her farewell and leaving the offices. Annabelle threw a goodbye after them, and then they were gone. Jenny instantly ran a hand through her hair and mumbled a prayer under her breath before walking back into the meeting room, gathering up all the papers and picking up the three mugs which had e carelessly left on the coffee table. _

"_Why come to an interior designer if you are going to tell them how to do their job?!" Annabelle questioned, as she sat back in her chair. Annabelle was Jenny's assistant, a graduate of the London College of Fashion who Jenny had met purely through chance. When she saw the girl's taste, and organisational skills she had swept her up. The girl was 25, born in England but with French parents. She was an only child and when she had headed off to London they had returned to France, and so had Annabelle following her graduation. She was short, 5'2, had thick, straight brown hair, deep brown eyes and wore thickly rimmed glasses. _

"_I don't even know!" The red head responded as she dumped the papers on her desk and went to place the mugs in the sink. "But they are paying over twice the usual rate so I wasn't going to turn them down. All they really want is a lick of paint so I'll send some decorators over and wave them goodbye." She added when she returned to the room. Jenny stood there, looking at the paperwork she knew needed to be done but dying to leave. _

"_I'll sort it. Go." Annabelle stated, looking at her boss. Jenny had seen the trouble causing former marine again, in fact he had stalked her usual coffee shop. Then one day, she had taken a break from work and gone there. Sat down at a table and silently watched the world go by. That was when he had joined her. She had grumbled at first, rolled her eyes and tried to ignore him, and thrown sarcastic comments his way. But before she knew it, he was buying her another cup and they were talking. Just like they were two old friends. _

_She didn't know how it had gotten to the point where they were quite seriously dating, but it had. He stayed at hers more nights than not, and they were practically inseparable. However, she hadn't seen him in over a week. A case had caused him to leave the country on the hunt for the culprit and he had only returned that morning. So she was surprised to say the least when he told her that he wanted to spend his first night back going out for a fancy meal with her. It hadn't taken the red head long to realise he was more of a takeout at home kind of guy than a fancy meal out. _

"_I can't make you-"_

"_I'm offering." Annabelle instructed. It didn't take another word to convince the red head. She grabbed her bag, and pulled out the nude lipstick. Swiftly she applied another coat, smoothed her straightened hair, and bit her lip as she looked down at the black and white panelled, bodycon dress she had been wearing all day. _

"_Do I have time to change?" She asked, half to herself and half to her assistant. _

"_Seriously? You look stunning, you always do, he hasn't seen you in a week and I highly doubt that anything you wear will stay on long past dessert." The red head blushed at the comment, and grabbed her red clutch bag. He'd been with her when she bought it a couple of weeks ago, and it was fast becoming her favourite. _

"_You sure you don't mind handling that lot?" Jenny questioned sincerely. _

"_I'll do what I can, and leave anything I can't on your desk for tomorrow. You only have one meeting, so don't worry if you're a little late." The brunette, stated, adding the last bit with a wink. The red head just rolled her eyes before thanking the younger woman and grabbing her black biker style leather jacket. _

"_I'll see you tomorrow." Jenny stated, but she was already out of the door and wearing a smile from ear to ear._

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><p><em>The restaurant was only small; in fact it was the same one he had taken her to on their first date. A date when she had insisted they drink white wine in fear he would spill it on her. She approached the maitre d' who was stood at the doorway; an older man with greying hair and soft wrinkles around his eyes – crows feat as she had heard someone call them. Personally she preferred laughter lines, it sounded nicer. She told the gentleman who she was looking for and he led her to the table for two at the back of the restaurant where Gibbs was already sat. <em>

_The whole place was typically French, white walls, candlelight, intimacy…_

_Her face turned impossibly happier at the sight of him sat there, and he stood up to envelop her in a hug, and give her a kiss that would make knees go weak. "I've missed you." She said barely more than a whisper. _

"_You too." He replied, before motioning for her to take a seat._

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><p><em>October 2004<em>

"I gave you the papers a month ago, _a month ago." _She stated fire raging in her green eyes. Across from her stood Leroy Jethro Gibbs, he wasn't sure why he hadn't signed them yet, maybe he was still holding onto hope of them fixing things. Maybe he didn't want to just give up on their marriage so easily. Despite what she was saying though, he saw the way her eyes were alive with emotion, and it made his heart swell. It had been a long time since they didn't look hollow, and even if it was because she was annoyed with him, he would take it. Simply because it reminded him of times when they would sparkle with happiness, it reminded him of the times when they would have conversations without even saying a word. "Why have you not signed them?"

"I've been busy. Cases, y'know?" He stated. They were currently stood in the stairwell on one of the half landings. She had arrived not five minutes ago telling him they needed to talk. His beloved lift was being fixed so that was why they had ended up stood there.

"Oh yeah, I remember. Like the way you were too busy to come and see me when I was nearly dying in hospital?" She enquired, watching as his face scrunched up with pain at the word 'dying'. Every time she had said that word he had scorned her, told her she wasn't going to die. The truth was, though, that neither of them had ever known that for certain. Neither had ever been given that hope legitimately.

On the landing below, Ducky stood. He had been on his way up to see the MCRT and deliver them some news about their latest case when he heard familiar voices. It was Jethro who he had heard first, and from what he had said the doctor had assumed it was that mysterious red head who he was talking to. The doctor hadn't asked the agent about who she was after their last meeting. He had simply left it be. Any idiot could see that there was a lot of hurt between them, a lot of pain and raw wounds. So he left it, hoping that in time his friend would open up to him and explain just what was going on.

"I was trying to catch a killer Jenny!" Gibbs responded, his voice rising in volume with anger.

"And I was trying to fight Cancer!" she shouted back at him. "But what was I to fight for when not even my husband could be bothered to sit by my bedside and hold my hand."

"I was there!"

"No, Jethro, no you weren't. You weren't there enough." She said, a tear rolling down her cheek. "You weren't there when they were pumping god knows what into me, when they were telling me that there was no guarantee it would work. I had breast cancer, I was having accelerated radiation therapy!"

"I came when I could." He answered, looking at the shell of a woman in front of him.

"You just so happened to come on the one day a week they weren't giving me therapy. You didn't have to sit there and watch-"

"-I wanted to be there Jenny, I wanted to but Ari was going around killing people, holding my agents hostage – he had killed Kate Jenny! He murdered one of my people – someone I was meant to protect – how was I to know that he wasn't going to come after you?" He shouted, watching as she bit her lip. She did that when she was trying to decide something, what to eat, what to wear, what to say-

"Don't play the protection card Jethro. What about your job as a husband? What about when you had caught him and I was at home trying to recover. What were you doing then?"

"What do you want me to say Jenny, I was scared, I was terrified I was gonna loose you – I couldn't face that!" He said, hoarsely and barely above a whisper.

"So instead of spending every hour you could with me – every hour that could have been my last – you decided to avoid me? Not visit, not come home?"

They were silent then, from down below Ducky wondered if one had them had perhaps killed the other. Up there Jenny had tears rolling down her face, and her eyes cast up to the ceiling. She couldn't look at him. Partly because of the anger inside, and partly because she knew that if he said the right thing she would run back to him in an instant – and she wasn't sure that was the best thing for her anymore.

She understood that Ari had held Kate hostage, had killed her. And she empathised; she understood that loosing someone was hard. But she would never understand why he hadn't cared about possibly losing _her_. Because that was what it had felt like. He wasn't there, not the day that she had her first radiation therapy and not the day she had her last. He hadn't driven her home from hospital, hadn't helped her wrap her ribs up after radiation had weakened her ribcage so much she had a fractured rib.

His not being there had implied to her that he didn't care.

"I don't know what you want me to say Jenny. I'm sorry-"

"I want you to sign the divorce papers." She said, her voice shaking. A year ago she would not have believed they were in the position they were, not believed the words that were falling from her lips. Their relationship had been strong, stable, he had been her everything…they had never left their honeymoon phase. Until the 1st of April 2004, when they had sat in that doctors office had been told she had breast cancer like it was some April fools.

"We can make it work Jenny, we were so good, with time we can-"

"I can't." She said, a sob catching in her throat.

"I can." He said, strongly. However she shook her head.

"You lost the right to make those sorts of decisions the day you chose to catch a killer instead of sitting by your wife's bedside whilst she fought cancer."

Jenny turned, and walked downstairs, she didn't even see Ducky, but he saw the mascara tears that covered her face, and he heard the sob as she broke down on the other side of the door. He heard the uncharacteristic sob leave Jethro's mouth, just before he punched what sounded like the wall and slid down to the ground.

In that moment the good doctor realised he could not have been further from the truth. The red head was not just another Woman, she had been someone that Gibbs had really loved. They had been dealt a joker, and been unable to burn it. The doctor sighed, and walked downstairs to autopsy, deciding what he had to say could wait until later. Now was not the time.

* * *

><p><em>April 2001<em>

_They there, tangled up in the sheets of her bedding, her apartment in the city. She was curled around the former Marine, her head resting in the crook of his neck, arm splayed across his middle, and leg resting on his. Jethro's head was turned to her, a smile resting on both of their lips. The sun outside had long since set, and neither were quite sure what time it was. But the moonlight lit the apartment room, providing enough light to they could see the other. _

_Jenny spun a little so she was looking up at the ceiling, and held out her left hand, gazing at the ring that was sat on her ring finger. The sight of it instantly brought a smile to her face, a bright, ear to ear gleeful one. That ring was the reason she was not asleep, because of the excitement it had caused to race through her bloodstream. _

_It really was a beautiful ring. A traditional gold band, with a single, small diamond set into it. On one side was an Emerald, and on the other was a sapphire. In the dim moonlight it sparkled like fairy dust. On the inside the simple word 'Paris' was engraved. It meant so much to them though. Because as stupid and cliché as it sounded, it was the city of love for them. Two Americans, in a foreign city. _

_She turned her head, and placed a soft kiss on his jaw line. "I love you." She said, barely above a whisper, and as he kissed her forehead, he told her he loved her too. With smiles on their faces, their eyelids fluttered closed, and they fell into the arms of slumber; content._


	3. The explanation

Sticks and Stones

Chapter three: The explanation

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><p><em>April 2001<em>

"_I've got to go." She mumbled against his lips, as he captured hers once more in a heated kiss, effectively silencing her for a few more moments until she pulled away, laughing. "I have a meeting with Elle magazine!" She informed him, but the arm around her waist only tightened protectively. Giving in for a moment she rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes, listening to the sound of his heart beating in his chest, steady and rhythmical. Only opening her eyes to gaze at the freshly placed, sparkling ring on her left finger. _

"_Call in sick." He mumbled into her neck, as he kissed the soft and pale skin there. _

"_To who? I'm my own boss, and no one can replace me at the meeting." She stated, unconsciously moving her head in order to give him more access._

"_So?"_

"_Okay, enough." She said, pulling away, and listening to him groan in frustration. She stood opposite him and smirked at his expression, before walking over to where her shoes were and pulling on a pair of plum coloured, suede ankle boots. The black A-Line skirt she wore fell about an inch above her knee, and her crisp white blouse was tucked into the material. The red head grabbed a plum coloured silk scarf and carelessly placed it around her neck before grabbing a hair band and tying her long red locks into a high ponytail. _

_Jethro walked forward, and swiftly removed the hair band in one fluid movement. "Like your hair down." He stated. _

"_You are infuriating!" She responded, as she grabbed the band back and replaced it to it's rightful position in her hair. _

"_And that is why you're marrying me." He said, shooting her a playful smirk. She rolled her eyes, and grabbed her dark plum lipstick, swiftly applying it to her lips. She tightened her ponytail, and grabbed her trench coat before she turned to her fiancé – ooh she liked the sound of that. _

"_Right, it's time for you to go." She informed him. The red head was well aware of the fact that he was reasonably late for work, however she doubted he actually cared – in fact she knew for a fact that he didn't._

"_Jen..." He groaned. No one had ever called her that but him. She had always hated it, hated people shortening her name because it reminded her of her father and his shortening of her name to J. However when Jethro said it, well it felt natural; it felt as though it had always been meant to be. _

"_C'mon." The red head instructed as she pushed him out of the room, both laughing. Everything felt…so right._

* * *

><p>"<em>I know, I know I'm late!" Jenny said, as she made her way into the office, a rush of red hair everywhere. Her assistant looked up from her desk and rolled her eyes at her boss. Her boss was only a little late, and Elle magazine were terrible at keeping time. The fact that Jenny had worked for them made them think they could do whatever they pleased when it came to time keeping. <em>

"_They are not even here yet, Jenny, you are fine." The assistant stated, as she looked at her boss, taking off her jacket. "I managed most of the paperwork, there are just the accounts that you need to sign off and then you can draw up what you want. I know that is your favourite part so I figured I'd let you do that." _

"_Thanks, you're a god send." Jenny said, as she sat down and leant back in her chair. She was smiling, but all of a sudden she realised just how tired she was, and just how little sleep she had gotten. _

"_How was your evening?" Annabelle asked, as she took in her boss' gleeful smile, a little more gleeful than usual. _

"_It was..." Jenny began reflectively, before giving into the excitement that was bubbling up inside of her. "Incredible, perfect." _

"_What-" Annabelle began before Jenny held up her left hand, and watched her assistant's eyebrows raise in shock and jaw drop in delight for her friend, and boss. "Oh my gosh!" She stated, as she got up and walked over to where Jenny was sat. The assistant knew just how lucky Leroy Jethro Gibbs was, she had only met him briefly, but she knew Jenny well. The red head was one of the most deserving people she had ever met. She put her all into everything, and never gave up, not even when the going got virtually impossible. "Last night?"_

"_Yeah, by the river." She said, biting her lip. "I never thought- It's happened so fast you know? Yet I don't feel rushed, it feels so… natural."_

"_You really love him, don't you?" _

"_Yeah." Jenny said, smiling at her assistant. _

"_God, I'm jealous."_

* * *

><p><em>October 2004<em>

For the first time in his lengthy career, finding out the reason for a person's too soon demise did not provide solace for Doctor Donald Mallard. The unravelling he had inspected, the needle he had found in a haystack, none of it really mattered. Because his mind was too preoccupied by the problems of those alive to be so caught up in those of the deceased.

The doctor was unable to erase the thought of Jethro and his wife. The pain he had heard in both of their voices, the pieces he had begun to put together from those words he had overheard. The pieces of their love story. There was love, hurt, pain, anguish, a modern day Romeo and Juliette.

The good doctor looked down at the report he was part way through writing and placed his fountain pen carefully down on the paper as not to cause a splattering of ink, before standing up and walking over to the kettle. He flicked the switch down so the little red light became illuminated the boiling process started. As he placed the tea leaves into the small strainer and then that into the cup and Ducky thought about his friend. The infamous Leroy Jethro Gibbs, it had only taken him two minutes upon his arrival at NCIS to discover the red hair filled past of the agent. The women he had left in his wake, divorced, heartbroken, angry, and no one knew quite why it never lasted. He was attractive, and despite his gruff exterior, it was rumoured charming when he wanted to be. Of course there was his work-o-holic nature, but surely they would know about that they started dating him?

Just as he sat down with his steaming cup the doors opened and the agent in question appeared, walking through the swoosh of the automatic doors. "Ah Jethro, I'm afraid to say my report is not quite ready, I will ensure it is on your desk tonight though." The Medical Examiner stated politely.

"Ah, don't worry 'bout it Duck." Gibbs stated, pausing for a moment, half turned towards the door, as he contemplated leaving. His pause was only momentary, but it was enough for Ducky to pick up on. The Scotsman eyed his friend, looking at the hurt that was unguarded in his eyes, and the way his hand ran down his face rougher than it usually did.

"Was there something else I could help you with Jethro?" Ducky asked, softly, as not to pry.

"Ah Duck, I dunno." Gibbs answered his voice hoarse.

"I'm guessing this has something to do with your soon to be ex-wife?" He probed, cautiously.

"I haven't signed the papers, she wants 'em done but I-"He stopped himself, walking over to sit down opposite the doctor, on one of the desk chairs. Her ran a hand through his hair and sighed, before leaning his elbows on his knees and sitting forward. "I guess I thought that if I didn't sign them, if I left them be, then … then I would get her back, then I would- It is so stupid, I know, it's…"

"You want her back." It wasn't a question; it was a statement, and an obvious one.

"She was… I never thought that I would love anyone like I did her."

"How did you meet? I never asked." Ducky said, noticing the hint of a smile that passed over the agents face at the thought of the past, how things used to be. And Ducky smiled.

"When I was in Paris, I bumped into her – literally – at a coffee shop. She thought I was some ignorant-"The smile on his face made him stop. He would never forget the way she had looked that day, in that pale dress, with that bright hair. "It just happened, I kept seeing her at this little coffee shop, then one day I sat down and we just, hit it off. Seven months after we met we were engaged. Everyone thought it was just another marriage, like Stephanie, and Diane, and Rebecca, but it wasn't. It really-"

"If you don't mind my asking, my boy, you obviously love her very much. What went so wrong?" Ducky already had his thoughts, his ideas, and assumptions. But he wanted the real reason; he wanted to know what had actually happened. There was a deep love between the two, it was still there if the emotion both seemed to be feeling were any indicator, it had just been buried under anger and upset .

Gibbs' face cracked, smile vanished, his eyes were almost filled with tears. Ducky had never seen him like that; he had never seen that much pain or emotion in the man. Not over a case, or a situation gone wrong. Never. Yet at his marriage, it proved to Ducky that his first impression had been wrong. There was a hell of a lot more to the relationship between Leroy Jethro Gibbs and Jennifer Shepard than just a wedding band. "She got diagnosed with breast cancer."

"Oh dear." Ducky empathised.

"I was terrified, she had a lumpectomy, then three, four weeks later she started accelerated radiation therapy. They kept her in, worked better that way apparently. Ari was on the loose and I missed the first session, two days later he had Kate held hostage. Then he shot her-"Gibbs looked up at the ceiling. "I was so scared of losing her that I tried to ignore she was ill, I focussed on work, went after Ari, went after anything that meant I didn't have to see her lying in that bed, helpless to that curse, that disease that was trying to take her from me.

"She was so ill Ducky. She was pale as a sheet and weak and… I couldn't face that. I couldn't face seeing her like that. So I avoided the hospital. I was so, so pathetic and _I _was the weak one. I couldn't even drive her home from the hospital." Gibbs sat there, he had always tried to convince himself that he hadn't been in the wrong, but he knew in his heart that he had been. He had been the one that caused their marriage to end. She may have filed for divorce, but he drove her to that point. "I wasn't there when she really needed me. Jen couldn't forgive me, couldn't get over the fact I hadn't been there. I don't blame her."

Ducky just nodded, understanding the reasoning for the woman's lack of forgiveness, but also understanding the agent's point of view. "Have you spoken to her?"

"Nah, always ends in an argument." Gibbs said, shrugging his shoulders. He abruptly stood up, turned away and ran a hand through his hair. He nodded at Ducky and began to walk out, effectively ending the conversation, it hurt too much.

"Jethro." Ducky said, stopping the older man before he left autopsy. "We once thought that the world was flat. Just because you may think there is no hope now, it doesn't mean that there won't be in the future. You need to fight for her, if you really love her, fight _for_ her. I'm not saying it will work, or that it will be easy, but you have to try. No matter how wrong you were, she still loves you. You only fight with someone when you care enough to do so. Remember that."

Gibbs nodded, unable to respond to the comment appropriately, and walked out of the cold metal room. As he stood waiting for the lift his head was a mess with thoughts and memories. All he could think about was her. The way she had looked on the day he proposed, the way she had looked at him with big, sparkling emerald eyes. The way she had danced with him on the French river bank without there being any music. The way she would curl up to him every night. The way she would look in the morning, wearing only his shirt. The way she had looked when he married her… the way she said 'I love you'.


	4. The pleasantries

Sticks and Stones

Chapter four: The pleasantries

* * *

><p><em>October 2001<em>

"_Okay you think you're Brad Pitt. That don't impress me much, so you got the looks, but have ya, got the touch?" She sang, a smile on her face, head swaying with the music that came blasting out from the radio, the sound distorted by the tinny speakers a little. "Don't get me wrong, yeah, I think you're alright, but that won't keep me warm in the middle of the night." She carried on, fully engrossed in the sound as she stirred the pasta source that was in the pan and tipped in the minced beef she had just cooked in the other pan. It wasn't often she cooked, primarily because she wasn't great at it. But her culinary repertoire was expanding and now included pasta as well as eggs. _

"_That don't impress me much!" She sang, louder that before, spinning around in a circle and receiving a heartfelt laugh from the man who she had not heard walk through the door. Stopping dead, she slowly turned to look at him. The smile on his face caused her face to flush, he had caught her Shania Twain karaoke, he hadn't been meant to see that. Silently, she leant over to the radio and lowered the music down substantially in volume. "How long have you been stood there?" She questioned, biting her lip. _

"_Long enough to know that Brad Pitt doesn't impress you. Good thing I went grey early then I guess." He said, still laughing at her expression. Her face deepened in colour, and she decided to return her attention to the food. Hoping he would forget about her little sing along. _

_Still with a smile on his face he walked forward, and wrapped his arms around her waist as she stood at the hob, stirring the source rhythmically whilst the pasta boiled away, bubbles rising to the top of the water and gathering in little groups. "Shania Twain, huh?" He asked, as he placed a soft kiss against the skin on her neck. _

"_It was the only thing that wasn't French." She said, letting her eyes drift to her husband, who was still smirking at her. "Will you stop?!" She asked, unable not to laugh though, the whole thing was terribly embarrassing, but she couldn't deny the fact it was kind of amusing as well. _

"_Nah, quite enjoyed the show. Fancy giving me a strip tease as well next time?" He questioned, wiggling is eyebrows and receiving an elbow in the ribs. Jenny laughed too though. There was something easy about their marriage. They'd fallen into a blissful, careless, content stage. Everyone said the honeymoon feeling would end, but as of yet it hadn't. Jenny wasn't sure it would, everything just seemed to fit so well. _

"_How did you get off so early? Thought you had some important case?" She asked as she placed a colander in the sink and drained the spaghetti into it, before tipping that into the source, stirring it around and turning the heat off. Grabbing two bowls and turning to look at him. _

"_Finished it at 1600." He stated simply. "How was the meeting?" _

"_Not bad, they want to do the whole black and white theme – again. 'Oh Jennifer, we loved the black walls and white lights that you did last year, something like that would be perfect!'" Jenny mocked, pulling a face full of utter disgust. _

"_Easier for you though?" He questioned, but she just rolled her eyes. Jenny hated the easy life in work. She loved hunting for just what her client wanted, even if it was the smallest of details. The red head had gone to the ends of the earth for a perfect alarm clock, haggled for weeks to get a painting and decorated lampshades because she couldn't find the perfect one. She didn't do it for the money, or the ease. She did it because she loved it. _

"_I'll draw up a couple of ideas but I know what they want anyway." She said, rolling her eyes and dishing up the food. Gibbs grabbed a bottle of bourbon and poured them both a good measure into a cut crystal tumbler before walking over to where they were going to eat and sitting down. Jenny walked over and joined him, grabbing the salt and pepper on her way. "How was your day anyway?" She asked, taking a bit of the hot pasta and looking at him. "Jethro?" She asked when she saw the look of internal debate cross over his face. _

"_C'mere." He said, and she pulled a chair around, closer to him. Jenny took his hand, and with her other grabbed her glass, taking a sip and relishing in the steady burn that warmed her oesophagus. "Director called me from DC." _

"_Okay." Jenny said, softly, waiting for him to continue on with what was worrying him._

"_He erm. He wants me to head up the MCRT in DC. It'd be starting next month." He looked at her, dead in the eyes and saw her weighing up the situation, biting and chewing on her lower lip. He left her a moment, just to think. Knowing she needed to process what he was saying and the possible consequences. Silently Gibbs was waiting for her to explode like one of his ex-wives would have done. But she didn't._

"_What did you tell him?" She asked, but it wasn't accusingly, it was just, kindly. _

"_That I'd think about it. There is no pressure Jen, you have your life here, we have _our_ life, I'm not gonna risk-"_

"_You need to tell him that you accept." She said, watching as his face turned into an expression of shear shock. _

"_What about your business?"_

"_Jethro, I get tonnes of requests for work from America every month. I've been considering expanding anyway. Annabelle really is too good to be an assistant anyway. I can keep my major contracts; Elle will use me in the states. I like a challenge." She said smiling; she spun a little more in his direction and looked at him full on. "This is your chance Jethro, to have the big cases, and the team. If it is what you want, then I'm not going to stand in your way, I'm by your side."_

"_You sure?" He asked. _

"_Yeah, I might have to flick between Paris and DC for a while, there are contracts I have for the future. But where is the fun in not trying something new?" She asked, and he smiled. Leaning forward and kissing her passionately, still completely unable to believe the fact that she was willing to come with him. That she wasn't going to leave him for wanting to move, or scream or shout. _

"_God I love you." He murmured against her lips, and kissed her again. Jenny happily responded but pulled back a couple of moments later. _

"_I love you too, but eat." She said, laughing, and pulling her food closer. Not wanting to move from being close to him. She was nervous about moving back to DC, after all she had fled the city only months after her father's death and not been back since. However the red head was well aware of the fact that this time Gibbs would be with her. She wouldn't be alone, not this time._

* * *

><p><em>October 2004<em>

It was a couple of days after Jethro's conversation with Ducky that he returned home to find a familiar red head sat in his suburban home. The former marine walked through his typically unlocked front door and dumped his car keys onto the wooden cabinet top that sat by the door. Since Jenny had moved out of the house and back across town to her childhood Georgetown house, he had gone back to his old ways of not locking the door. After all he had nothing to protect anymore. Back when she lived there he had her, now she didn't live there, he didn't see the point.

It was when he walked past the living room door that he heard the rustling of papers. Immediately his hand went to the gun that was still holstered on his hip. The agent stopped, silently listening to hear voices of which there were none. Slowly he began to creep across the familiar flooring to the door, avoiding those floorboards he knew where creaky and would give his presence in the house.

As he walked into the room, his hand tightened around the gun, but he stopped at the sound of her voice penetrating the silence. "Don't shoot me. It may make the divorce easier but I think a few clients might have something to say about it." She stated, he instantly relaxed, and placed his jacket over the holster and weapon so it was out of sight once more. With less stealth he moved fully into the room and view, to be greeted by the sight of his soon to be ex-wife.

The red head was sat in the living room, on the floor, looking intently at the bottom shelf of the bookshelf where she had always kept her scrap books. He had always assumed she had taken them all with her when she moved out, but he had noticed a few days ago that some of the older ones still remained. It had crossed his mind at the time that maybe he should box them up and take them over, but he hadn't had the heart. Another example of his trying to delay the process of completely losing her.

"You need a hand?" He asked, walking over and locking his gun into the safe box that sat on the exact same bookshelf as all her things. She just shook her head without turning to look at her husband, and let out a sigh of frustration. "You got a new client?" Gibbs knew for a fact that all her clients had their own books. So she knew what she had done for them in the past and didn't do something similar. The only reason she would want an old book was if she had a new client who wanted something like an old one had.

"Yeah, SecNav's charity ball." She said, before picking up the five thick, A3 pads and standing up, placing them on the arm rest of the worn leather sofa and running a hand through her red hair. It was long, Gibbs loved the length, it fell nearer to the base of her spine than her shoulders. Wavy and natural, left to do its own thing. She had always moaned about it. _Not curly and not straight_, that had been her issue with it. Her dress was a knitted sweater style, and gently floated down to mid thigh. Just from the small glimpse of leg he got between the hemline of her dress and the top of her heeled suede black boots he could see that she was thinner than she had before the year began.

"Congratulations." He said, smiling warmly to her, sincerely.

"Yeah, thanks." She said, softly, slowly, still preoccupied by the fact that she couldn't find the exact scrap book she was looking for. That she was unable to remember even which client she had done the work for, only able to recall t had some aspect of art deco in it. She stopped her thoughts a moment and took in the room in front of her. She would always remember the first time she had walked into the house, the red head had fallen in love with the space within moments and even in her sleepy, jet lagged state. The light and the warmth, and between them they had redecorated. Not in her usual style, but in warm reds and browns, colours that made a home. It looked to most like she had never left. But she saw the changes, just like she saw them in him.

His hair was greyer, eyes were duller, and he was fitter, he spent more time at the gym because it meant that he didn't have to be home alone. "You want a drink?" He asked, but she shook her head, and he knew she was there to get her books, she wasn't there for any other reason. This wasn't some chance for reconciliation. Just because he knew that though, didn't mean that he accepted the fact. It didn't mean that he was happy with losing her.

"Nah, no I've got to go. The ball is in a week and I only got the job today." She said, looking at his face and engraving the image into her mind. She watched him nod, disheartened.

"Well, good luck." He said, watching as she began to load herself up with her bag, coat and the books. "Here let me help-"He began to say, moving over and trying to take the things from her.

"I can manage." She mumbled, but he didn't stop his helping. "Jethro will you pack it in?! I can damn well manage on my own." She said, looking up at him with cold and harsh eyes. He took a step back and nodded. Jenny turned and looked away, blinking rapidly to get rid of her emotion. The fact he wanted to help, did it mean he cared? Did it mean he wanted to support her?

It was too late. Jenny reminded herself. It was way, way too late.

With that, she took her things and left the room, left the house that had been her marital home. As she did, Gibbs ran a hand through his hair and sat down on one of the sofas, sighing. She had walked out again, he had said the wrong thing, he had tried to help her when she didn't need help. He had…

"Dammit." He cursed. "Dammit!"

* * *

><p><em>October 2001<em>

"_You're really gonna go?" Annabelle questioned as she took a sip from her raspberry and cranberry tea, wrapping her hands around the white bowl shaped mug. Her lip softly resting against the pottery as she waited for the red head to reply to her. The sweat and tart scent of the tea rising into the air. Her thumb softly tracing the pink floral line drawing pattern that adorned the white of the mug, subconsciously. Annabelle looked across at Jenny, through her slightly steamed up glasses - a sight that made her boss smile. _

"_Yeah." Jenny said, as she placed her pen down and looked across at Annabelle. She had drawing up plans for the Elle magazine job. Working on her sketches and ideas. Annabelle nodded, and took a sip of the deep red drink thoughtfully. _

"_I guess I should start job hunting." Annabelle said, placing the mug down and turning to her desktop computer. Jenny knew it wasn't said bitterly, or harshly, but she felt bad. Deep down she felt bad, because Annabelle was good, and Jenny didn't want to leave her behind, jobless. _

"_You could come." The red head stated, picking up her blue floral patterned mug and taking a sip of the strong coffee that sat inside. A little bitter and strong, black though, with only the smallest splash of milk. _

"_I moved to Paris to be closer to my family-"_

"_And you're way too overqualified to be an assistant anyway." Jenny said, watching as the younger woman laughed. "Take a look at Chanel, I think they are looking for an apprentice, might just be up your avenue." Jenny said, smirking as Annabelle rolled her eyes at the comment. _

"_Jenny, you don't have to-"_

"_-they approached me." Jenny interrupted, watching as shock fell over the brunette's face. "Told me they wanted someone – talented, reliable, reasonable experience, and well, who else would I say? You're damn good. They're interviewing next week, 11:30 if you're interested." _

_The red head spun to look at her computer and got back on with work. All the while leaving her assistant sat looking shell shocked on the other side of the room. Everything was falling into place. Annabelle could have the job she rightfully deserved, Jenny could expand, Jethro have the job, and them both have each other. The smile that spread over her face was enchanting. Now all she needed to do was get over her fear of returning stateside. Return to the city where her father had taken his own life._


	5. The honest truth

Sticks and Stones

Chapter five: The honest truth

* * *

><p><em>November 2001<em>

_The black suit dress was by far one of her favourites. The square cut neckline was not usually what she would go for, it gave away enough to tempt, but not enough to be slutty. The dress fell about two inches above her knee, but it was a summer dress. The whole thing was too tight to wear tights with or a shirt under. Her boots didn't go either which was why she was wearing a pair of red patent leather Louboutin heels with it. It was stunning outfit, and she knew that her husband loved it – which was partly why she was wearing it – however she was damned cold. _

_As the red head walked into NCIS headquarters she let out a relieved sigh at the significant rise in temperature, and released the tight hold she had on the trench coat wrapped around her. Jenny smiled at the guards and let them check the contents of the red A4 clutch she was carrying before she walked over to the lift and pressed the button for her husband's floor. _

_They had been in Washington DC for two weeks now, and she had already flown out to Paris twice to deal with her clients. The city was so different from when she had left it over six years ago. There were more cars, or maybe that was in comparison to France. It had grown though, that was for certain. The city merged into the suburbs almost flawlessly these days. There was a different buzz about the place, but maybe that was fear, maybe that had something to do with the twin towers falling only a month ago. Maybe it was her; maybe she was different this time. _

_The ping of the lift indicated that she had reached the bullpen, and the red head stepped off. She ran a hand through her curled red locks and slowly walked out. It was the first time she had been to his headquarters. So she didn't know exactly where he would be. Jenny walked, scanning the room until she saw his head just above one of the orange dividers. The whole colour scheme and design was atrocious. Considering the excellent lighting the place offered, the space and air, orange had been chosen. That would not have been what she would have gone for. The red head had a suspicion it was the idea of some behavioural psychologist who thought that orange was a motivating colour or something. _

_She walked around to his desk, and was greeted first by a younger man, with dark hair and an almost cheesy comedic grin on his face. "Hello and how can I help you? My name is very special agent Anthony DiNozzo – Italian, but you can call-"He began, only to be cut off by his boss. Jenny smirked, but felt a little sorry for him considering his obvious enthusiasm to introduce himself. _

"_DiNozzo leave my wife alone." Gibbs grumbled as he stood up, and walked over to the woman in question. _

"_You w-wife?" He stuttered. The younger agent watched the pair, there was very little physical contact, in fact they didn't actually touch, but Gibbs' eyes never left those of the highly attractive red head. There was a smile on his lips too, not a smirk, not _that _smirk which he usually wore. An actual smile, not big, but big enough to mean something. Then there was the lady near to him, long, long, legs, a curvy figure, and eyes that were more emerald that anything the younger agent had ever seen. _

"_Yeah DiNozzo." Gibbs stated, whacking the younger agent on the back of the head before walking closer to his own desk, Jenny following. She smiled sympathetically at the agent, but only received a look which could only be described as drooling. Jenny rolled her eyes and turned to her husband. Tony had been dumped on Gibbs on both of their first days, and now was the sole other member of Team Gibbs. "What you doing here Jen?" he asked, leaning against his desk, and taking her hand, squeezing it ever so softly. _

"_My meeting finished on time, and I realised I was nearby. Thought that I would come see if you wanted lunch."Jenny said, smiling. "If you don't have a case, that is."_

"_Nah, DiNozzo can manage the paperwork." The greying agent stated, smirking at the sound of a groan which was emitted from the agent in question. Gibbs grabbed his black coat and shrugged it on, before placing his hand on the base of his wife's spine and walking with her out of the bullpen. Tony caught sight of the pair as the doors to the lift closed, her head rested against his shoulder, and both were smiling contently. For a man who looked for lust rather than love, it was a strange sight, because the pair of them were most definitely in love, head over heels, fairytale style._

* * *

><p><em> November 2004<em>

"I still don't understand why we don't get to eat as well. They wouldn't even be allowed here if we weren't, so how come they get to eat and we are stood here starving." Tony DiNozzo said for what seemed to be the millionth time in the past hour. He moved his hand to the black tie that was fastened around his neck in a thick knot, and blindly straightened it up. Then he brushed the shoulders of his tailored suit and pulled the arms down a little to straighten them – just as they always seemed to do in the movies. Like it actually did something to how the suit fell, when in actual fact it was just a way of passing the minutes. "A sandwich wouldn't go amiss, just a little one. Oh, maybe pastrami- ooh with pickles, onions, mayonnaise and maybe some salami. Mmm." The agent moaned, completely forgetting just where he was until the hand of his boss collided with the back of his head. DiNozzo grunted, and then went about flattening the little tuft of hair that the slap had caused to fall out of place.

"We're here to work, not fantasise about food." Gibbs grumbled, however he did agree with the agent. Right at that moment he could die for a steak, but he knew that was out of the question. He had been security detail on enough black tie events to know that the security didn't even get the leftovers from the plates, let alone a meal of their own.

"Completely unfair." The Italian mumbled once again, smiling widely as he caught the eye of an attractive brunette sat across the room. However that got him another head slap, and when he turned to look at his boss to find out just what he had done that time, he was greeted by an eye roll.

"That is the wife of the Secretary of Defence." Gibbs said, watching as Tony swallowed, and looked away from the high ranking man who was glaring at him across the room.

They had been at the event for two hours now, and all Gibbs had been able to think about – other than killing the agent beside him – was the red head who had planned the whole thing. It was the Secretary of the Navy's charity ball, all in aid of a small hospice which helped those with cancer in the city. The ball room of the white house, and the dining room they were currently stood in, along with the outside area, had all been specially designed by Jennifer Gibbs. As soon as Gibbs had walked in, just behind the director, he had seen her signature style. It was simple, art deco style, making the most of the features the rooms already had and exaggerating them.

It was a stunning area, but she looked even more amazing. Her dress was a pale pink and strapless. It was only fitted to empire line before it gently floated down in layers. Each one a slightly different shade that made the whole think look like it was made out of metals. Her hair was tied up, curled and in one of those plaited bun things she had always loved doing. Gibbs' mouth had gone dry at the sight of her, makeup exaggerating the colour of her eyes. However despite how gorgeous she looked, he saw the way her collar bone was more prominent, how her arms were thinner. It was a reminder that he may not have been there when she was seriously ill, but that she wasn't yet fully better either. She was still recovering.

From across the room Gibbs watched as the red head laughed at something someone on her table had said. He watched as her eyes sparkled just a little with amusement. Watched as those perfect lips turned up into a warming smile that made his heart swell. He was still in love with her, he knew that. He had never fallen out of love with her. That was what made the whole situation so much harder, because she had managed to cut off her feelings and he couldn't.

"Peppered Salami." Tony DiNozzo said, turning to his boss.

"What?" Gibbs said.

"Peppered salami, pastrami, pickles, mayonnaise, onion, lettuce-"

"-I don't wanna know DiNozzo." Gibbs said, before turning his attention back to the director of NCIS who was sat on a table with the secretary of the navy.

"How is everything in there?" Came a voice through their earwigs. Gibbs and Tony gave a quick scan before reporting that everything was fine. Just as the silver haired agent was about to contemplate slapping the younger agent's head just for fun, he caught sight of someone leaving the dining room via the security exit.

"Who just left the dining room, you were all told to stay in position?" Gibbs demanded as he scanned the room once more, trying to see if every agent was still in their designated place.

"No one was told to." Came the voice in their ear and Gibbs signalled for Tony to walk the perimeter of the room. "You sure someone left?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." Gibbs answered slowly, his face remaining neutral as he too walked the perimeter of the room, checking that all the guests were seated, which they were, and all the security were present.

"No one is missing." Tony said when he met up with Gibbs on the opposite side of the dining area. Gibbs let his eyes wander outside, trying to see if he could pick out any movement among the shadows of the bushes.

"Everything seems to be in place on our side." An agent said through the earwig.

"Check outside." Gibbs informed his gut uneasy. The silver haired agent let his eyes linger on the red head. She was still chattering away, as though she had no idea that his eyes were on her. But she was playing with the locket around her neck and Jethro knew that she could feel him watching.

"Boos, d'ya see that?" Tony asked, as Gibbs turned back around. Just as the silver haired agent did turn around he saw movement among the plants outside. That was enough to confirm the uneasy feeling he had.

"Get them out." Gibbs said into his microphone. Tony went to get the director, and every other man and woman in a suit around the edge of the room approached their appropriate guest and whispered in their ear. However it was all too slow in Gibbs' mind. The agent walked steadily to the edge of the room, and stood just outside the door. The cold brisk air of autumn hitting his face like a thousand pins all at once. That was when he saw the red light coming from the shrubs. "Rear of the dining area, sniper."

Inside the dining room, that was when everything went into panic. Every agency director, member of congress, and person of any rank and position was escorted out until only the 'less important' guests remained to be evacuated. Just as Jenny was standing to leave the room, she turned to look out of the window. Whilst panic raced through her blood and all around her, she thought of her husband. Jenny knew Jethro would be in the thick of it, wherever that may be.

As she rushed out she noticed a ring lying on the floor. Jenny stopped, picked it up and as she did heard the piecing noise of a bullet hitting the window. The red head jumped out of her skin, a hand over her mouth. A second and third shot hit the window before a serenade of firearms were released. Frozen, the interior designer stayed where she was, crouched behind a chair.

Jenny didn't know how long she stayed sat on the dining room floor of the White house for. All she knew was that she was there long after the commotion had finished. Her heart still racing, wondering if that was the feeling Jethro felt everyday when he fought against some bad guy.

* * *

><p>"Jen?" He said, puzzled as he walked into the dining area which he had expected to empty. Quickly he made his way over and helped her to her feet, pausing to let her get her balance before he let go of her cold thin hands. "You hurt?" His voice filled with concern.<p>

"No, no, I'm okay. What…?" She trailed off; looking into those familiar cobalt eyes that she had spent so many nights in the company of.

"Ahh, some protest group managed to get past security. Animal rights or something. FBI're dealing with it. No one was hurt, guy was a lousy shot." Gibbs said, smiling a little to try and calm his wife down. He began to walk over to the door he had just entered through, Jenny by his side. Wondering if some fresh air might help her to relax. Once they got out he saw her shiver and wrapped his suit jacket around her shoulder.

"Are you," she began. "Are you okay?" Jenny asked, to which he nodded. "You, could've been killed Jethro." Her eyes were filling up, and the former marine realised – maybe a little too late – that Jenny wasn't accustomed to the whole being shot at thing like he was. She had never been in a situation like that before. "I could've been killed."

"I wouldn't have let that happen." Gibbs answered honestly, taking her hand and squeezing it supportively. However silently he knew that he may have been unable to stop it. If that sniper had been a better shot, if Jenny hadn't have bend down, if _something _had gone differently, then they could have been carrying her away in a body bag. He could have really lost her.

"I-" Jenny said, before stopping herself. She didn't know what to say, didn't know what she was meant to say. "Don't you have to go sort anything out, what about your Director?" She asked him, suddenly realising that she shouldn't be his concern.

"Tony can manage, anyway, they drove him out as soon as it all kicked off." Gibbs said, taking a moment to admire the seating area they were in. There were large sofas, all art deco styled, but white wood with pale grey cushions mixed with the odd floral one. The lighting was white, but only gentle. A lot less severe in comparison to the style she had always been forced to use for magazine events. There were heaters too somewhere, or he guessed there must be considering the fact it was November, he was just wearing a shirt and he wasn't freezing to death. "It looks amazing Jenny." He said softly, watching as she smiled in thanks.

"They let me have free rule over what I did as long as it was art deco." She said softly. "I've always wanted to do something like this, here, the lighting and everything. It makes the space feel so old and historic. Just imagine it back then, so full of life and parties." Gibbs watched her face as she spoke, the light emitting from her eyes as she spoke about something she was so passionate about.

"You don't look too bad yourself either Jen." Gibbs stated, making her laugh and rest her head against his shoulder.

"Well I always liked you in a suit too." She said, turning to look at him. There was something in the look that passed between them in that moment, something just like that day in the bull pen all those months ago, like the look that had passed between them before their first kiss. She looked away though, her eyes becoming downcast as the intimacy of the situation dawned on her. Gibbs looked away as well.

"Jenny-"He began, running a hand through his hair. He'd never been good at saying how he felt, at apologising and what not. However he knew that she deserved one, knew she deserved at least one apology from him. "I'm sorry." That was enough for her to turn and look at him. "I'm so sorry Jen. I-"

"Jethro stop." She pleaded, not wanting him to feel as though he had to explain. Partly because she knew it would most likely end in her taking him back. Something she still didn't know how she felt about.

"No. You deserve an apology - that is the least I can give you, okay? I'm sorry. You needed me and I wasn't there, I was terrified of losing you so I did the only thing I have ever done and I buried myself in work. I hid from it and hoped it would all get better. I pushed you away when you needed me and that is unforgivable. I-" He sighed and rested his head in his hand, looking out into the garden's of the white house. "I'd change it all if I could Jenny."

She was silent, and for a moment he wondered if she was glaring at him. But when he turned to look at her he saw silent tears rolling down her cheeks. "I know you are." Her words were laced with emotion, and he watched as she roughly brushed the tears away.

"I'll sign the papers, have them with you by tomorrow, _if_ that is what you want."

"What do you mean 'if'?" She asked, looking at him dead in the eye.

"I mean _if_ that is what you want. If you want us to be over, then I'll walk away, I'll let you live your life, and I won't pester." She bit her lip, wondering what she should say in reply before he spoke again. "But if you want, then maybe, we could try again, because I love you, and that has never not been true."

"Jethro."

"I'm not saying tear up the papers and jump into bed. I'm saying try, Jen. Work things out, get back to a place where you can trust me again-"

"-And what if the cancer come back? What then Jethro? Are you just gonna hide away at work again?" She asked, her voice rising in volume.

"Then I will be by your side every day." He just sat and watched as she silently cried, silently tried to internally conclude what she should be doing and saying. What was best for her. All the while knowing that she still loved him, despite all the anger and hurt. Gibbs moved ever so slightly forward and cupped her cheeks in his hands. Running a finger over her cheek bone and wiping away a stray tear. Her eyes slowly looked up and into his. Ever so softly he left a kiss on her lips, before resting his forehead against hers.

"I'm so scared." She stated honestly, her eyes down once more. "I don't wanna hurt like this again."

"I know."

"If we-"She cut herself off, chewing on her lip. "If I agree, we've gotta go slow. It's gonna take a while."

"I'll wait."

It felt like an eternity for him, sitting there silently, waiting for her decision. It felt like an eternity before he felt her head move slightly in a nod. "Okay." Was her quiet response, teamed with a small smile. "Okay." She replied, and he gave her a kiss on the forehead before pulling her into his warm and comforting embrace, never wanting to let her go again.

* * *

><p>The next time Doctor Donald Mallard saw Leroy Jethro Gibbs, there was a spring in the man's step he hadn't seen before. There was a smile on his face and the silver haired agent was on his way to meet his wife for dinner. Jenny and Gibbs did take it slow, in fact, the next time Doctor Mallard met Jennifer Shepard was five months after the night at the White House and they were still working through things. But with every hour that passed, both were grateful that they hadn't given up on what they had. Both were ever the more grateful that they had decided to try and work through things. Because maybe one day, she would wear that beautiful engagement ring, and that simple wedding band on her left finger once more.<p>

For the time being though, they were both content to just let things go at their own pace. That way, they could deal with the sticks and stones life threw at them - together.

* * *

><p><em>The End<em>


End file.
